


Cold as Fire (Hot as Ice)

by BustyWritesStuff



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU (Comics), The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Canon Related, Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Ficlet, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Potential Spoilers, Romantic Fluff, Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, coldwave
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-05-05 09:35:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5370458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BustyWritesStuff/pseuds/BustyWritesStuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of One-Shots/Ficlets/Drabbles about the endlessly wonderful rare-pair that is ColdWave AKA Len Snart + Mick Rory.</p><p>Chapters range from fluffy to smutty, but all chapters will be tagged accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Domesticated

When Len had signed up to be part of Rip Hunter's little time-hopping super group, he had naturally assumed that in doing so he'd be privy to certain perks and privileges that just naturally came along with being considered a 'hero' by the general populace.

 

Truth be told Len wasn't expecting anything extravagant, just having the Flash and his pathetic do-gooder friends turn a blind eye to the Rogues jobs every now and then or something like that would be more than enough of a reason to sign up in Len's humble opinion. But considering where he was now, namely sharing a tiny room and an even tinier bed with his... well, whatever Mick was to him anyway, Len wasn't exactly pleased with how things as part of the team were going so far.

 

“ _Well... this is awkward.”_ Mick asked as he inched just the tiniest bit closer towards Len, who looked to be just about ready to tumble down onto the floor on the other side of the uncomfortably small bed. _“After all, last time we were in a bed together it was for a very different reason...”_

“ _Mick... what did we agree on before we got into this bed?”_ Len said as calmly as he possibly could, although his unbearably tense shoulders gave away how he was really feeling.

“ _No talking...”_ Mick said a little hesitantly, his voice almost childlike as he spoke.

“ _And what exactly are you doing right now.”_ Len asked, his tone taking on that awful, overconfident way it got whenever he was in full 'Captain Cold' mode. Oh how Mick had grown to hate the 'Captain Cold' voice.

“ _Talking...”_ Mick heaved out.

“ _Exactly. So shut the hell up and go to sleep Mick.”_ Len groaned as he shifted about on the edge of the bed, desperately trying to get comfortable. The faster he fell asleep, the quicker he'd wake up and be out of this uncomfortable (and oddly familiar) situation. It was a win-win solution as far as Len was concerned.

 

What followed Len's subtle yet effective take down was a truly magical six minutes of blissful silence. Len had to admit, it was both comforting and concerning. Even back when he and Mick were... together, the burly pyromaniac had never been so damn quiet. Usually if he wasn't telling Len about each and every inane little thought that passed through his head then Mick was 'bothering' Len for something a little more intimate than just conversation.

 

Thankfully, Mick hadn't tried anything like that. Not yet anyway.

 

Just as Len felt himself about to slip into a deep slumber, the sound of Mick clearing his throat and clearly readying himself to launch into yet another pointless, mind-numbing tirade forced Len out of his relaxed state of being and back into the uncomfortable alertness he'd been suffering from since slipping into this terrible bed.

 

Clenching his teeth and balling his fists beneath the thin blanket, Len waited for the inevitable.

 

“ _Len... psst. Len, you awake?”_ Mick whispered.

 

Well, that didn't take long.

 

“ _No, I'm asleep.”_ Len snapped back, keeping his eyes trained steadily on the wall a few feet in front of him as the rest of his body prepared itself for a fight. Unless what Mick had to say next was of the utmost importance, Len was going to knock him into next week.

“ _Can I uh... can I ask you something?”_ Mick asked, his tone still strangely low as he spoke.

“ _I've got a feeling you're going too, regardless of what I say next... So shoot.”_ Len forced out from between clenched teeth. For Mick's sake, Len seriously hoped that he was picking his next few words wisely.

“ _Can I get a hug?”_ Mick asked, his tone far too innocent for his own good.

 

Well, Len certainly wasn't expecting that. Truth be told it actually felt like the wind had been knocked from his lungs. The pair had been working together for almost two decades now and Mick somehow kept finding ways to surprise Len. If nothing else, that in itself was impressive.

 

Normally Len would have to question what Mick's ulterior motives behind that loaded question were. Contrary to popular belief, Mick was not an idiot. While nowhere near as clever as Len, Mick did have this odd intelligence about him. A lot of the time Mick's intelligence was drowned out by the brash, aggressive front that the man put on so effortlessly, but still, if you spent more than five minutes with the real Mick then there was no denying that there was... something there.

 

Perhaps the fiery aggression (no pun intended) was just an act, but then again perhaps not. Either way Mick couldn't just be asking for a hug, there just had to be something more to it. With Mick, there was ALWAYS something more to it. Mick just wasn't that type of gu-

 

“ _Len. did you hear me?”_ Mick whispered again, snapping Len free from the vicious cycle of doubt he found himself drowning in and back into the moment at hand. Len couldn't tell if he was thankful for that or not.

“ _Uh-huh...”_ Len answered, his voice mirroring Mick's low tones as he gave his reply.

“ _Well, Can I get a hug then or what?”_ Mick asked again, sounding a little more sure of himself than he did just a few moments ago when he asked for the first time.

 

Len hadn't even answered yet, but he was just sure he was going to live to regret this.

 

“ _Uh... sure.”_ Len eventually said tentatively. No going back now.

 

Almost before the words had even left Len's lips, Mick made a strange, happy sounding noise as he shuffled over across the bed and started pulling Len backwards into what Len was sure to be an unbelievably warm hug.

 

Much like a jigsaw puzzle, the pair fit together almost too perfectly. They had done this more time's than Len could count, so honestly they way they reacted to one another's bodies shouldn't have come as such a shock.

 

Without even saying a word, Len lifted his body up ever so slightly as one of Mick's arm slid under his body effortlessly. Meanwhile, Len grabbed Mick's other arm and pulled it over himself, allowing Mick to gently pull Len's frame back against his chest and into a tight, inescapable hug.

 

As the pair begun to settle, Len couldn't help but smirk to himself as he felt Mick's knees nudging gently at the back of his own. Only just managing to resist the urge to shrug his shoulders, Len simply allowed himself to be bent to Mick's will.

 

It was official. He and Mick were spooning.

 

Not even an hour ago Len was genuinely dreading the idea of sharing a bed with Mick after everything that had happened between them. And yet, here they were, snuggling up together on a tiny bed like they were a real domesticated couple.

 

As said, if nothing else at least the pyromaniac kept finding ways to surprise him.

 

“ _Thanks Len...”_ Mick eventually mumbled tiredly, a content sounding sigh escaping his barely parted lips as he pulled Len back even closer to his chest.

“ _Don't mention it. In fact, you know what? Just don't talk... at all.”_ Len teased as he nestled himself back into Mick's arms. This was certainly more comfortable than hanging off the edge of the bed, that much was for sure.

“ _Ugh fine...”_ Mick whispered as he pushed himself forward one last time and rested his head down against the back of Len's neck, his lips not quite resting against the tender skin there he begun slowly unwind.

 

Len would rather flay himself alive than admit it to the man clinging onto him like a baby would to its precious teddy-bear, but this was actually rather relaxing.

 

“ _G'night Len...”_ Mick said, his voice trailing off towards the end as his exhaustion finally begun to get the better of him.

“ _You're talking again...”_ Len said, peering one eye open and grinning to himself as he felt Mick heave out a deep chuckle behind him.

“ _Dick...”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you could leave Kudos/Feedback then that'd be greatly appreciated. It's such a cliche, but a little support really does go a long way.
> 
> I'm trying to do more writing in general, so if you have any prompts or stuff then hit me up at TheBustyStClair.tumblr.com and I'll see what I can do.


	2. Take It Off

“ _Take it off, NOW!”_ Len roared aggressively as he aimed his Cold-Gun directly at Mick, who just so happened to squeezed himself into Len's prized parka.

“ _Hmm... Nope, don't think so.”_ Mick snickered back, with an added playful wink for good measure, as he too aimed his weapon, the equally lethal Heat-Gun, back directly at Len.

“ _That wasn't a request Mick, it was a command! Take my jacket off now!”_ Len barked at the other male as he took a tentative step forward, his index finger on the trigger of his weapon and his other hand helping to keep his surprisingly heavy fire-arm suspended in the air and aimed directly at Mick's head.

“ _Since when do I take orders from you? Besides, I look fuckin' good in this thing, don't ya think?”_ Mick cackled maniacally as he mirrored Len's movements by taking a step forward as he too steadied his weapon.

“ _Whoever told you that is a liar.”_ Len sneered with an obnoxious chuckle.

“ _Funny, you had nothing but nice things to say to me last night. Suppose you had to though, its hard to say anything too nasty about someone while they're sucking your di-”_

“ _MICK! ENOUGH! JUST TAKE THE JACKET OFF!”_ Len snapped, cutting Mick off mid-sentence before he could embarrass himself, and Len, any further. Len wasn't sure where, but Lisa and the rest of the Rogues were hiding away inside the lair somewhere or other, and while Len and Mick's relationship was in no way a secret, he didn't exactly want the rest of them knowing all of the nitty gritty details.

“ _You hard of hearing or somethin'? Jesus, how many times do I need to say it Lenny? Nope, it ain't happening. The jacket stays on.”_ Mick half-sung as he removed his hand from the barrel of the gun and used it to flick the hood of Len's parka up onto his head.

 

Oh hell no. This was going to end badly.

 

“ _Mick! I'm not in the mood! Take the jacket off and ge- shit!”_ Len started to say before a thick stream of flames spewed from the nozzle of Mick's weapon and flew directly towards Len. Gripping his gun even tighter than before, Len swore under his breath and forward-rolled out of the way of Mick's attack and behind some rather conveniently placed cover, namely the well-worn couch sitting just a few feet away from him.

“ _Oops, clumsy me. Good thing you're not wearing yer coat Lenny, I might have gotten it a little crispy just now.”_ Mick cackled again, pausing for a moment as he eagerly awaited Len's undoubtedly witty retort.

“ _Mick, what the hell is wrong with you?!”_ Len screamed furiously from behind his cover as he readied the Cold-Gun once more. Enough was enough, First chance he got he was taking Mick's head off.

“ _Nothing, I've just grown attached to this little number. I can see why you like it so much. That said, I do think I'm stretching it a bit...”_ Mick taunted , tensing up his arms as he spoke and smirking to himself as he watched the hems of Len's prized jacket stretch around his comparatively bulky frame.

 

With Mick momentarily distracted, Len jumped up from behind his cover behind the couch and fired a single shot from his Cold-Gun directly at Mick. Notoriously fast on his feet, Mick's eyes shot wide open as he dropped down onto the floor like a dead weight, only just managing to narrowly avoid the stream of brilliant, burning frost streaming from Len's gun as he tumbled.

 

“ _Aww c'mon Len, don't be like that! I was just playing around! If I wanted to hit ya, then I'd have hit ya! Simple as that! Good thing I've grown rather fond of you over the years eh?”_ Mick bellowed from behind his own makeshift cover, namely the armchair directly across the room from where Len was just moments ago when he took his shot.

“ _Cut the shit already Mick and just take off my jacket already!”_ Len shouted as he begun to silently slink around the room and towards Mick. Since the direct approach wasn't getting him anywhere, perhaps something a little more sneaky was in order.

“ _Blah-Blah-Blah! Y'sound like a broken record Snart. Why don't you come over here and make me take yer precious jacket off, hmm?”_ Mick taunted as he carefully begun to slip himself free from Len's jacket. He'd had quite enough fun pressing Len's buttons, but if he actually did rip that thing then there would be hell to pay.

 

To describe the next few moments as tense would be an understatement. Mick waited for Len to go full 'Captain Cold' on him and start throwing witty puns and banter his way, but alas, nothing came. In fact, the only noise Mick could actually hear was the sound of his own deep and laboured breathing. Strange that Len hadn't said a word since they'd tried to shoot each other. This less-than-healthy situation wasn't exactly new to either of them, but something about this little bout had seemed... oddly personal. Had Len really grown so attached to that stupid jacket?

 

“ _Len, you giving me the silent treatment doesn't do anyone any favours, so c'mon, say something already.”_ Mick said, his voice loud and somewhat anxious sounding as he eagerly waited on Len's sure-to-be snarky reply.

 

For the next few moments Mick waited in silence for the retort that was never to come. The silence was doing nothing to help with his anxious he was feeling, but that was neither here nor there. Mick was so anxious apparently that he had failed to notice the deadly silent Len, who by now was carefully creeping up right behind Mick with a murderous look on his face and his hands perched like claws, just waiting for the perfect moment to strike his apparently unwitting prey.

 

“ _C'mon Len, I know you. You want to say something. I know yer probably burning up inside, just desperate to use one of those shit 'Captain Cold' puns aren't you? You're so fuckin' predictable som-”_ Mick started to say before Len roared like a wild beast from somewhere behind him and tackled him down onto the floor with a horrendous, painful sounding thud.

 

What followed could only be described as a wild, almost unbelievable scuffle fit for a couple of infamous career criminals. The pair of grown men screamed and cursed like pissed-off rowdy teens as they threw each other around, both men trying desperately to gain the upper-hand over the other. Punches were thrown, sneaky kicks were launched but in the end it was Len who managed to overpower Mick after connecting a rather brutal punch to the bulkier man's throat.

 

Flipping Mick down onto his back and then hopping up onto his stomach, Len sneered triumphantly as he snapped forward and clamped his hands down hard onto Mick's wrists before slamming them down onto the floor and keeping them pinned there. Len didn't want Mick going anywhere, not when Len had Mick exactly where he wanted him.

“ _Predictable am I?”_ Len said with a wiry smirk on his face as he slowly leaned in closer to Mick's face, his breath oddly cool as it heaved down on to the pyromaniacs flushed features. _“Well, You didn't see that coming did you big guy?”_

“ _N-n-no.”_ Mick wheezed out, his face now burning a crimson scarlet hue as he gazed up at Len through watery eyes.

“ _Exactly. So can I have my jacket back now Micky or have you still not learned your lesson?”_ Len asked as he tightened his grip around the bigger man's wrists. Mick couldn't help but wince pathetically in response.

“ _Its... its over th-there...”_ Mick forced out as he only just managed to point towards Len's beloved coat, lying just to the right of them in a mangled heap.

“ _That's a good boy...”_ Len muttered in a strangely flirty tone as he slipped off of Mick's stomach and started shuffling over towards his jacket on his hands and knees, looking exactly like the cat that got the crème while doing so. Smug little shit.

 

Watching Len move away from him with a lopsided looking smirk on his face, Mick heaved out a painful sounding exhale as he begun to tenderly rub his still aching throat. Sometimes Mick forgot that behind the puns and the camp theatricality, Len packed a serious punch. How lucky for Mick that situations like this were here to help remind him.

 

“ _Jesus Len, was that really necessary?”_ Mick wheezed pathetically as he tried, and failed, to sit back up.

“ _Well, I certainly think so. It got my jacket back didn't it?”_ Len shrugged dismissively as he begun to slip back into his parka.

“ _I guess yer right...”_ Mick muttered, still lying flat on his back as he watched Len intently out the corner of his eye.

“ _Always am. You should know that by now.”_ Len concluded with a low laugh. Mick merely shrugged in response.

 

After finally slipping back into his jacket, Len slinked back over towards Mick and seated himself back onto the man's stomach once again. Ignoring Mick's annoyed grunts, Len re-wrapped his hands around Mick's wrists and pinned him back down onto the floor just like he had done moments ago.

“ _Now now Mick. No complaining. You know as well as I do that you've got to be punished after that little stunt you just pulled. If I don't, then everyone else in here will think I'm a pushover, and we can't be having that now, can we?_ ” Len asked in an heavy, sultry voice as he slowly begun to dip his head down, closing the gap separating him and Mick as he spoke to the still somewhat dazed male beneath him.

“ _W-w-what've you g-got in mind Lenny?”_ Mick huffed out, staring up into Len's pale blue eyes with an almost shocked look on his face.

“ _Oh I've got a couple of things in mind...”_ Len whispered as he leaned forward and gently kissed Mick, their lips only touching for the briefest of moments before Len carefully slipped back upwards and away from Mick, leaving him moaning desperately beneath him. _“None of which require clothes...”_

“ _I like the sound of that.”_ Mick chuckled as he forced himself to relax while in Len's inescapable grasp. He clearly wasn't going anywhere soon, so he might as well get comfortable.

“ _Figured you would...”_ Len said as he removed his hands from around Mick's wrists and quickly got to work stripping Mick's shirt off of him.

“ _You know me oh so well Capt-”_ Mick started to say before Len leaned forward once again and silenced whatever he had to say next with another, more forceful kiss.

 


	3. Out Of Reach

4:48am

 

For the sixth day in a row, Mick had woken up in the middle of the night all alone in his and Len's bed with an unmistakable feeling of dread hanging around oppressively in the pit of his stomach. Waking up alone wasn't exactly an odd occurrence, Len was a strange creature by nature who could be warm and inviting one minute and then cold and closed off the very next, but waking up alone six days in a row left Mick feeling a little wary, especially considering what dreaded 'anniversary' (if you could call it that anyway) was now only just a few short days away.

 

Outside, thunder boomed land heavy rain battered down against the windows with what sounded like almost enough force to shatter them. Chances are either Mark was getting his rocks off or having yet another bad dream. Or maybe it was just the weather being y'know, the weather? Mick seriously hoped it wasn't the former.

 

Trudging out of bed and into the hall as silently as he could (there were another four people living in this place besides himself and Len, Mick could at least try and be quiet.), Mick groaned under his breath as he carried on down the hall and towards the stairs and more importantly, the kitchen. One good thing about Len having mysteriously disappeared meant that Mick could have himself a midnight snack in bed without having to listen to Len complaining incessantly about him getting crumbs everywhere or some stupid shit like that. Truthfully, Mick would prefer that that he and Lenny were cuddled up in bed together, but sometimes you just have to appreciate the little things in life. Every cloud has a silver lining and all that.

 

Grabbing the banister as he begun to lightly tread down the steep stairwell, Mick grumbled to himself as the stairs creaked and groaned under his weight. The one time Mick tries to be considerate is also the same time the stairs decide to try and fulfil their dreams of becoming a fucking brass band. Typical.

 

Hurrying himself down the last few steps, Mick pounced from about a two thirds of the way down and landed on the solid hardwood flooring at the foot of the stairs with a comparatively light thud. Aha. Len wasn't the only one who could be sneaky as hell when the situation called for it.

 

Continuing on down the hallway and towards the open-plan kitchen just at the end, Mick had only just started to congratulate himself on a successfully sneaky job well done when he finally noticed that someone was sitting in the darkness at their kitchen table... drinking what smelled like a hot cocoa.

 

Huh. Weird.

 

Stepping out of the hall and into the kitchen with as much confidence in his brash movements as he could manage (What? Even super-criminals were allowed to feel a little uneasy every now and then), Mick's hand reached out into the darkness and flicked the light's on, revealing the shadowy figure at their table to be none other than a surprisingly haggard looking Len, grasping onto a steaming red mug in his hand as he recoiled at the sudden brightness.

 

Perhaps haggard was too strong a word, but god dammit Len looked pretty damn rough. Currently dressed in nothing but a pair of black boxer shorts and a well-worn looking black tank top, Len looked like he'd been through the ringer several times over. His longer-than-usual hair was wild and unkempt, his stubble was looking more messy than suave and lets just say that the heavy looking black bags under his eyes certainly weren't Prada.

 

To summarise, Len looked a complete mess. When was hell was the last time he slept?

 

“ _Mornin'.”_ Mick said quietly as he walked past Len and carried on ahead straight towards the fridge. After 'working' with Len for almost two decades, Mick knew better than to question the other's appearance. Better to have Len offer up the information than Mick try and force it out of him. That approach never usually ended well.

“ _Morning...”_ Len repeated as he lifted the mug up off the table and pressed it to his lips, tipping it back slowly as he sipped on the piping hot liquid within.

“ _You're up early. You feelin' alright?”_ Mick asked, turning his head over his shoulder to glance at Len as he rifled through the fridges contents.

“ _Yep”_ Len muttered curtly, sighing quietly to himself as he lowered the mug in his hands back down onto the table.

“ _Uh-huh. You sure?”_ Mick said as he pulled a container full of brownies out from the bottom shelf before closing the fridge over once again. Score. Brownies trumped a sandwich every god damn time.

“ _I'm sure.”_ Len said without missing a beat as he glanced at Mick briefly out the corners of his eyes before almost instantly turning his attention back towards the mug still gripped tightly in his hands.

 

Outside, the thunder and rain's power seemed to intensify as Mick slipped around to the other side of the table and pulled out a chair directly across from where Len was sitting. The indifferent glance the other male tossed Mick almost made the pyromaniac re-consider his plans, but Mick was persistent if nothing else... or maybe he was just stupid?

 

“ _So... “_ Mick forced out harshly through a mouth full of brownie, spitting crumbs out onto the counter before him as he spoke, much to Len's annoyance if that almost painful wince was anything to go on.

“ _So.”_ Len repeated, looking up at Mick with a raised eyebrow.

“ _Some weather we're having eh? Next time I see Mardon, remind me to kick his balls up into his stomach for waking me up this fuckin' early...”_ Mick sneered as he tore another chunk off the brownie and begun to obnoxiously chew on it.

 

Before him, Len just about smirked at Mick's comment but didn't really offer up much in the way of a reply. Hmm. This was going to be a little trickier than Mick thought.

 

“ _So, did the storm wake you up, or...?”_ Mick trailed off at the end, deliberately leaving a little room at the end for Len to hopefully give him a proper answer.

“ _No. I've not been sleeping well, that's all.”_ Len said, exhaustion apparent in his tone as he removed his hands from around the mug and begun to tenderly rub small circles into his tired looking eyes.

“ _Huh. Guess that answers why y'keep getting up out of bed in the middle of the night then. I'll admit Lenny, I'm a little disappointed. I was expecting something a little more, I dunno, interesting I guess. Who knew even the almighty Captain Cold suffered from insomnia...”_ Mick teased as reaching across the table and swiped Len's mug in one swift movement.

“ _Mm.”_ Len mumbled with a shrug, giving Mick an odd look as he watched Mick greedily slug down the rest of his drink.

 

“ _Guess I'll cut the bullshit then. There a reason you've not been sleeping well? Somethin' bothering ya maybe?”_ Mick asked as he slipped another brownie out of the box and tore it in two. Mick knew fine well what the answer to his question was, he just hoped that Len would be in a trusting enough mood to actually let him in on the not-so-secret secret.

“ _Nope. Why, do YOU think there's something bothering me?”_ Len asked, his tone accusatory as for the first time since he sat down Len looked up from the table into Mick's eyes. Uh-oh.

“ _I could be wrong, but I think it could have somethin' to do with the fact that tomorrow is gonna be the three year anniversary since... well, everything happened between you, Lis and Larry.”_ Mick admitted with a blasé shrug, hoping that the indifference lacing his tone would mask how nervous he truly was to even broach this subject.

 

Before Mick's very eyes, Len's entire body seemed to tense up at the mere mention of his fathers name. Any exhaustion-related laxness was gone, finding itself immediately replaced by a sea of tensed muscles and a overpoweringly aggressive aura.

 

“ _What makes you think that would be bothering me?”_ Len asked harshly through clenched teeth, watching Mick intently through narrowed eyes.

“ _Do you really want an answer to that?”_ Mick asked, placing both the now empty mug and the half finished brownie down onto the counter as he spoke. Before him, Len closed his eyes over and sucked in a sharp inhale through his nose.

“ _No... No I suppose I don't.”_ Len answered eventually, his eyes re-opening and drifting away from Mick's and down towards his now clasped hands lying on the table. Neither of the pair said anything else after that.

 

Silence. After twenty years of working together and doing all manner of other things with each other, the only things these legendary companions could offer up to each other in a time of need was an awkward, stale silence. Honestly, Mick didn't want to dwell on the implications of that.

 

“ _Do you, ugh... wanna talk about it?”_ Mick asked after a while, the seemingly inescapable silence eating away at him more than Len's murderous glances ever could hope to.

“ _Not particularly.”_ Len said simply with a shrug.

“ _You sure?”_ Mick persisted, hoping that with enough gentle prodding he'd be able to break through the Captain's icy defences (no pun intended).

“ _I'm sure.”_ Len said definitively.

“ _You don't seem sure Len, you seem tense.”_ Mick continued on, the less than subtle hints Len was sending his way apparently falling on deaf ears.

“ _Mick. Drop it.”_ Len snapped, looking up at Mick again with a truly murderous glint visible in his pale blue eyes.

“ _Don't start that shit with me Lenny, I'm just tryi-”_ Mick started to say, before Len cut him off.

“ _And that's exactly it Mick, you're trying! You're VERY trying! In fact, the only thing you're trying right now is my fucking patience!”_ Len suddenly erupted, jumping up onto his feet and pointing at Mick with his index finger while his face instantly turned a deep scarlet hue.

“ _Oh for fu- I'm just trying to help you out Lenny, to try and be here for you! You can't keep pushing me away!”_ Mick said, immediately shifting in to the defensive now that he'd finally gotten a reaction out of Len, albeit an unwanted one at that.

 

His mouth flying wide open as if to scream something at the man sitting across from him, Len suddenly froze on the spot and almost seemed to remember where he was. It wasn't even 5am and yet here he was, standing in his own kitchen screaming like a fucking lunatic at someone who more than likely only had his best intentions at heart.

 

Jesus Christ. What a mess.

 

Slowly closing his mouth back over so his lips formed a thin, almost transparent line, Len sighed to himself and slowly begun to walk up and out of the kitchen and towards the hallway into the rest of the apartment. Len was so exhausted that he didn't even have it in him to have a war of the words with Mick. Honestly, how low could one sink?

 

Seeing his partner getting up to leave, Mick felt an all too familiar feeling of dread slink up over him. Every time Mick had tried to talk to Len about... the incident, the other man clammed up and spent the next few days completely ignoring him before suddenly chatting away to him like nothing had happened a week or so later. This had been a regular occurrence for the last three years, and Mick would be damned if he didn't at least try and put an end to that horrid little cycle.

 

Rushing up out of his chair and down the hall towards the escaping Len, Mick reached out and clamped his hand down harshly on Len's wrist and forcefully pulled Len back towards him with a little too much force. The fact that Lenny visibly jumped in fright as Mick grabbed his wrist literally made the pyromaniac's heart break in two.

 

Unfortunately for Mick, something else was about to break soon after.

 

Almost like it was a natural reflex, Len made a strangely panicked noise as he twisted his body around in time with Mick's pull and launched a balled fist hard into Mick's face. A sickening cracking noise filled the air as Mick released Len and grunted and fell backwards onto the ground, his nose now gushing with blood and eyes watering in pain.

“ _Don't fucking touch me! Don't ever fucking touch me unless I say so! Got it!?”_ Len seethed at Mick through clenched teeth, glaring down at the burlier male sitting laying on the floor with unbelievably wide, manic looking eyes and the slightest slither of blood clinging onto his reddened knuckle.

“ _J-jesus Len. I g-got it.”_ Mick spluttered out, nodding his head while he kept his hand pressed to his aching nose.

“ _Good. You're sleeping on the couch tonight. You can grab a blanket and a pillow from the cupboard. You know the one.”_ Len muttered as he turned himself away from Mick and started up the stairs and towards their bedroom.

 

Still laying on the floor desperately trying to stop the blood gushing from his nose, Mick glared up at Len and honestly couldn't stop himself from launching into yet another little tirade.   
_“Jesus Len, I was just trying to help! I know what you're going through for fuck sake, I can he-”_ Mick tried to say, before once again Len cut him off.

“ _And that right there is the problem Mick. You don't have the first fucking clue what I'm going through. Not a single one. You don't know what my life was like, hell, what my life IS like Mick. You don't. You just don't.”_ Len said, turning around and facing Mick with a much less harsh, almost sad look on his absolutely exhausted looking face.

“ _Lenny...”_ Mick said softly.

“ _Don't Mick... Just don't.”_ Len finished with a truly heartbreaking sigh as he turned himself back around and carried on up the stairs without so much as even glancing back at his still completely stunned lover sitting in a bloodied huddle in the middle of the hallway.

 

Moments after Len had disappeared away into their room, the apartment slowly descended into a cold, hollow silence while outside the storm begun stilling itself back down into an unpleasant nothingness. For the second time in one evening, Mick was once again all alone with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. His stupid, useless thoughts that got him nowhere but placed comfortably atop his lovers infamous shit heap.

 

For what seemed like the millionth time in the all too short twenty years they'd spent together, Mick had once again failed to be there for Len when the other clearly desperately needed him to be. How could two people share their lives together for almost twenty years and still not know how to properly communicate with one another? Maybe that question was better left unanswered.

 

“ _Smooth move Micky.”_ Mick grumbled quietly as the blood continued to ooze from his nose. _“Real fuckin' smooth...”_

 


	4. Kiss Me!

It was just meant to be a simple reconnaissance mission. Len and Mick would don their most unremarkable disguises and proceed to case out the horribly tacky, wildly obnoxious 'Flash Museum' before they and the rest of the Rogues trashed the place later on that same evening.

 

Since they'd just about managed to level the place the last time they'd trashed it, apparently the Curator of the museum had upped security in a rather futile attempt to hinder the Rogues (or anyone else for that matter) from actually managing to destroying the place. Details were scarce to say the least, but after some digging Axel had eventually discovered that more cameras had been installed, more guards had been hired and apparently even some unmanned turrets had been installed somewhere on the premises. The things were all loaded with non-lethal rounds of course, but still, turrets were turrets and that alone was worth investigating.

 

All of the museums new defensive measures are what lead them to where they were now, namely sitting inside the quaint little Flash-themed cafe slap bang in the centre of the museum's main atrium, sipping away on Flash-themed coffees all while trying their damnedest to keep as low a profile as possible, which was easier said than done for the infamous Captain Cold and HeatWave.

 

According to Len the most basic of disguises were usually the most effective, thus why Mick was wearing a pair of snug black jeans, a dark grey hoodie and a black baseball cap adorned with the 'Batman' logo. Mick had decided to look as unremarkable as possible and by all accounts he believed he had succeeded. Len on the other hand had opted for something more along the lines of smart-casual, namely a pair of black suit pants, his favourite black turtle-neck sweater and his thin-framed reading glasses.

 

As he took another sip from his basically frozen latte, Mick couldn't help but feel like he were a touch under-dressed. Well, that and that Len looked ridiculously good in those glasses, but honestly that was neither here nor there.

 

While Mick let his mind wander, Len's eyes continued to run along the wide expanse surrounding them for any sign of the new security measures Axel had warned them about. As his narrowed eyes scanned what seemed like each and every inch of the atrium, Len couldn't help but roll his eyes in sheer annoyance when he spotted a single guard patrolling the atrium and quickly drawing up on their location. Just as it seemed as though things couldn't get any worse, Len couldn't help but notice that this particular guard looked oddly attentive compared to the usual fodder that were employed to patrol places like these. This attentiveness could more than likely likely be attributed to the updated security protocols being as new as they were. Either that or the man just loved his job.

 

Great, just great.

 

“ _Kiss Me.”_ Len suddenly whispered, instantly prying Mick's attention away from the cup in his hands and onto his long-time partner, who was currently looking over at him expectantly.

 

Mick couldn't help but swallow harshly. Did he hear that right?

 

“ _W-what?”_ Mick asked gruffly, feeling more and more unsure about what he thought he'd just heard as he gazed ahead into Len's pale and unreadable eyes.

“ _You heard me. Kiss me.”_ Len repeated matter-of-factly as he drummed his fingers along the table impatiently.

 

Mick couldn't help but stare dumbly at Len, who was growing more and more impatient looking the closer the guard got to their table. Mick and Len had been an On-Again-Off-Again couple for close to two decades now, so it should go without saying that Mick knew Len pretty well, and visa versa. One of the things Mick knew for sure was that Len was not a fan of P.D.A in any way, shape or form. Hell, Lenny didn't even really like too much touching when they were alone together for god sake. Typically Len tended to like his own space, so to say that Len's little request had come as a bit of a surprise to the burly pyromaniac would be an understatement.

 

“ _Oh for goodne- c'mere!”_ Len grumbled as he grabbed Mick's hoodie with both hands and pulled him across the table, meeting him halfway and pulling the unsuspecting male into a kiss.

 

At first a little too stunned to do much but let himself be drawn in closer towards Len, Mick quickly found his footing once more and threw himself right into the embrace as the Security Guard quickly drew nearer and nearer.

 

Around them, other patrons sat inside the now uncomfortably small cafe seemed to be doing their damnedest to turn their attention onto something, hell anything that wasn't the pair of men currently wrapped up in their own sordid little fantasy world like a pair of horny teenagers. (and Mick would happily admit that the embrace was sordid, after all, that little moan that just escaped his lips as Len ran his foot up Mick's leg was anything but innocent.)

 

Being as enthralled in the kiss as he was, Mick failed to notice the dreaded security guard walking up towards the pair with an odd look in his eye. Glancing briefly at the pair as he drew nearer, the rather rotund security guard almost instantly begun to mimic the movements of the other people inside the cafe, namely by looking a little too indifferent as he turned his attention away from the passionately kissing gentlemen sitting in the cafe and on to one of the pieces of 'Mirror Master' memorabilia stored away in a sparkling glass case to his left.

 

Opening his eyes ever so slightly to watch as the security guard continued onwards and away from them, Len made a strange noise as he pressed his hands to Mick's shoulders and roughly shoved the other man away from him and back down into his seat.

 

Grunting almost painfully as his he was forced away from Len's lips and back down against the back of his chair, Mick couldn't help but lick his lips as he gazed ahead of himself at Len, who by all accounts looked as though nothing had just happened.

“ _W-what the fuck was that about?”_ Mick asked a little too loudly, earning himself a glare or two from some of the other people sitting around them.

“ _We were being incognito, what do you think?”_ Len scoffed as though the answer were obvious.

“ _And how exactly is macking off in front of the first guard we see keeping a low profile Lenny?”_ Mick snapped.

“ _Because people hate public displays of affection. When they see it their first response is usually to look away, never mind when its between two men.”_ Len said flippantly as he shrugged his shoulders. _“Simple.”_

“ _Ah. Right. Makes sense.”_ Mick said, failing to sound how disappointed he was really feeling now that Len had all but confirmed that he had just been used. Tough Guy exterior aside, Mick liked being used by their partner about as much as the next guy.

“ _You know me, always was good at thinking on my feet.”_ Len said as Mick focused his attention back onto the mostly empty cup of coffee sitting on the table .

“ _That's one way of putting it.”_ Mick grumbled while Len could only look on in apparent confusion.

 

For the next ten minutes or so, the pair of Rogues sat mostly in a tense silence. Every once in a while Len would make a passing comment about one of the other people wandering around the museum or even about one of their old exploits, since apparently this place was good at bringing out his more nostalgic side. Mick however only offered up a muted grunt in reply.

 

“ _Are you mad at me?”_ Len eventually asked, shattering the silence with five simple words as he stopped glancing around the busy atrium long enough to actually look Mick in the eye.

“ _What makes you say that?”_ Mick replied while continuing to make a deliberate attempt to not look up at Len.

“ _You're doing that thing with your fingers you do when you're upset.”_ Len said as he nodded towards Mick's hands. Sure enough, there was Mick cracking each and every individual finger over and over again while he lightly shook his head.

“ _Heh. Guess I am. You always could read me like a book Lenny.”_ Mick said softly with a chuckle to match.

“ _Well, its not as though you're particularly hard to read Micky. Spending twenty years with someone means you get to know them pretty well.”_

 

Even though he was feeling pretty damn embarrassed and more than a little frustrated, Mick couldn't help but smile at that. He'd always loved that nickname.

 

“ _Forgive me, but what exactly is the problem here Mick?”_ Len asked. _“I don't see wh-”_

“ _You know I don't like it when y-... you know what, its fine. Forget it.”_ Mick huffed out as he waved his hand back and forward dismissively.

“ _Its obviously not fine, and frankly I don't like the sound of listening to you loudly seethe for the next few weeks, so how about we talk this through before we make a mountain out of this mole-hill of a situation.”_ Len did his best to say as calmly as possible but ultimately failed to mask the stinging sharpness to his tone that sliced through Mick's hardened exterior like a warm knife into butter.

“ _Lenny, just drop it. Its fine.”_ Mick once again said, his tone noticeably more blunt than it had sounded just moments ago. As he spoke, he continued to crack his fingers.

 

Len paused for a moment and looked pensive as he looked the clearly fuming Mick up and down. He'd really put his foot in it this time, that was for sure. Worse yet, Mick didn't seem like he were all that interested in talking about it.

 

Hmm. Perhaps doing something other than talking was just what Len needed to remedy this situation.

 

“ _Listen.”_ Len started to say, making an obvious effort to sound a little more diplomatic (and flirty) than he had done just a few moment ago. _“When we were walking around earlier on I saw a snug little supply closet in the East Wing that I think could do with... a closer look.”_

“ _Oh yeah?”_ Mick said, perking up almost instantly and only just managing to hold back a telling shiver from ripping up his spin as he felt Len's foot carefully begin to drag itself up the front of his leg.

“ _Yep.”_ Len confirmed, making sure to emphasis the final 'p' as he gave Mick a telling little look of his that Mick knew oh so well. _“I think I'll need your help checking it out. Who knows, it could be dangerous...”_

“ _And you need your big strong boyfriend to come along and keep you safe?”_ Mick asked with a sly smirk as he felt his heartbeat beginning to speed up and cheeks beginning to redden. Jesus Christ.

“ _Yeah. Something like that anyway.”_ Len said as he rolled his eyes while Mick could only grin at his less-than-subtle proposition.

 

Rising up from the table in unison, the pair of Rogues took off up and out of the cafe and towards the stairs that led to the East Wing with a noticeable spring in their step. While the pair opted not to hold hands as they walked, they walked almost shoulder to shoulder with their steps towards the stairs perfectly in sync with one another's.

“ _Hope you know that I'm still pretty pissed off Len.”_ Mick said. “ _A dirty romp in a supply closet isn't quite the same as an actual apology, y'know.”_

“ _Well, what about if I do that special thing you like? Would that help?_ ” Len asked with a truly devilish smirk as Mick's eyes widened in response. Good old Mick, oh so predictable. Hook, line and sinker.

“ _You mean that thing with your tongu-”_ Mick asked.

“ _Yep.”_ Len confirmed with a steady nod before the other man could say a bit too much on the matter.

“ _Oh.”_ Mick said as his voice drifted down into something more akin to a hoarse whisper. Looks like Mick had just hit the jackpot. _“I uh, I guess that'd make things alright.”_

“ _Glad to hear it.”_ Len chuckled.

“ _If I said I was still mad, would you consider also doing that other thing I like? Y'know, that thing with your co-”_ Mick purred into Len's ear before his partner cut him off with a single look that made him flinch.

“ _Don't push your luck.”_ Len said with a barely audible chuckle while next to him, Mick could only shake his head and laugh silently to himself.

“ _Eh. Worth a shot. God loves a trier right?”_ Mick teased as he and Len begun to traverse up the long spiral staircase and towards this much-talked about little hideaway somewhere in the East Wing. Truthfully, they couldn't get there fast enough.

“ _Well, someone's got to.”_ Len shot back without missing a beat as he and Mick continued on up the stairs, laughing like no one was listening as they both begun to up their pace.

 


	5. One Word Off A Paradox

Try as he might, Len just couldn't manage to tear his eyes off of the disturbingly familiar young man standing just across the room from him with back pressed against the wall and his arms folded tightly across his chest, all while glaring at anyone who dared to so much as even glance at him. Sure he was a little younger ( _a lot younger honestly, but that was neither here nor there_ ) and still had all his hair, but that angry looking kid across the room from him was almost certainly the same young man who had rescued him from certain death way back in Juvie all those years ago.

 

That young man was none other than Mick Rory. Len was sure of it.

 

Of all the sights he'd seen and things he'd experienced since he had been dragged along on Hunter's ridiculous journey through time and space, this was definitely the strangest.

 

Len had somehow managed to mentally prepared himself for coming into contact with his own younger self ( _Turns out he was right all along, he did make a rather cute baby_ ) but finding himself sitting not even a stone's throw away from a much younger version of the man he'd come to know and love was more than just a little jarring. For as long as he had known Mick, Len had always been the younger one, albeit only by three years, but still, this sudden change to the status quo was far too tricky a concept to process right now. Len's head felt as though it were swimming as it was and somehow he just knew it was only going to get a hell of a lot worse the longer he was allowed to dwell.

 

“ _Hey you, What the hell are you starting at?”_ The younger Mick suddenly pipped from across the other side of the room. _“You're weirding me the hell out man. Cut it off.”_

 

At first feeling thrown for a loop at the sound of the strangely soft voice that came bounding free from the boy's mouth, Len quickly managed to recover in enough time to toss a smug grin over in the boy's general direction all while shrugging his shoulders before anything seemed amiss.

“ _Trust me kid, You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”_ Len said.

“ _And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”_ Mick asked.

“ _See answer A.”_ Len said.

“ _Hmph.”_ Mick grumbled before turning his face away from Len's, clearly accepting the fact that he clearly wasn't going to be able to out-sass the infamous Captain Cold anytime soon.

 

Say what you like about Rory, but he was always a quick learner. People really did have a tendency to under-estimate Mick at the best of times.

 

Suffice to say, Len didn't.

 

“ _So, are you that 'future criminal partner' that, well, older me mentioned earlier?”_ Mick said with a tone that suggested he already knew the answer to his question. _“Older me? That doesn't sound right...”_

“ _Time travel tends to throw proper sentence syntax out the window doesn't it?”_ Len said. _“And yes. Yes I am.”_

“ _Huh.”_ Mick said in a half whisper as he allowed his eyes to wander up and down Len's slender physique as if the man opposite him, that was until the younger Mick's eyes suddenly went wide and found themselves transfixed with the silver ring on Len's finger, A ring at which Len just assumed the younger Mick had more than likely noticed his future self sporting too. _“Well, guess that answers that then.”_

“ _Huh? What's that supposed to mean?”_ Len asked.

“ _Dunno. It meant to mean something?”_ Mick said.

“ _Not if you don't want it to.”_ Len replied.

“ _Then it doesn't.”_ Mick said while clearly trying his best to make his comparatively softer voice sound harsher than usual. Len couldn't help but smile at that.

“ _Hmph.”_ Len nodded. _“Whatever kid.”_

 

It was apparent that there was something else that the younger Rory was dying to ask Snart, but if Len had learned anything from his dealings with Mick over the years it was that pushing for answers wasn't going to get him anywhere. Mick could be a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be and pushing him when he was close to the edge wasn't bound to get Snart anyway, except maybe a black eye.

 

So it was settled. No pushing younger Mick for answers...

 

Gentle prodding was worth a shot though, right?

 

“ _You got something on your mind kid?”_ Len said.

“ _Nope.”_ Mick huffed petulantly as he sat himself down with a thump, making a deliberate attempt to roll the 'O' sound for as long as possible as he did so.

“ _You sure? Trust me when I say that I know you well enough to know when you're bottling something up and kid, you're giving me all the telltale signs.”_ Len carried on while Mick rolled his eyes dramatically.

“ _You don't know me old man, you know... well, him.”_ Mick huffed out.

“ _You do know you two are in fact the same person right? I know time travel is tricky and all but not even you are that dense Micky.”_ Len teased.

“ _Don't call me Micky. You don't fuckin' know me you old creep.”_ Mick persisted.

“ _I think you'll find you're the one who doesn't know me. Not yet anyway.”_ Len said with an overconfident sneer.

“ _God you're annoying.”_ Mick snarled.

“ _Don't worry, I'll grow on you.”_ Len said with a smile while Mick rolled his eyes and looked down at the floor.

 

What followed Len's teasing wasn't exactly the reaction he was hoping to get from the younger Mick but truthfully it was one he was expecting. This of course was silence. Nothing but a cold, almost palpably tense silence that ate away at him like an aggressive cancer.

 

Len could handle the banter. Len could handle the aggression. Shit, Len could even handle the aggressively boring small talk, but one thing he couldn't handle was the silence.

 

How fortunate for Len then that the silence wouldn't last much longer.

 

“ _Does it... does it ever get easier? For me I mean?”_ Mick suddenly said from across the room.

“ _Does what get easier?”_ Len asked lazily, hoping that his false stupor was enough to convince the younger Rory that he wasn't just waiting on him speaking again like he desperately hoped he would.

“ _Living with myself after what I've just done? You and Me... well, you and 'Mick' seem to ugh... seem to... know each other pretty well I guess, and I'd have asked him this question but he doesn't seem to want to talk to me at all.”_ Mick said, his voice sounding bare and unsure of itself for the first time since stepping aboard the WaveRider. _“So, does it?”_

 

Len hesitated.

 

Mick winced.

 

“ _I uh, I honestly don't know the answer to that kid.”_ Len answered softly and felt a twang of agony rattle around in his chest as the boy before him seemed to deflate at the answer. So much for honesty being the best policy.

“ _It's uh... its fine. I honestly don't think I deserve for it to get easier anyway.”_ Mick sighed. _“But thanks for being honest with me I guess.”_

“ _If there's one thing you can rely on from me kid, its honesty. You'll come to learn that over the years.”_ Len said with a half-smile. _“And if its any consolation, I'd like to think things have gotten at least a little easier. You're not a bad kid, you just made one admittedly bad mistake and while I don't want to risk messing with the timeline any more than we have already, you uh... you seem pretty happy back where I come from.”_

“ _Oh.”_ Mick said, the almost happy inflection to his tone making Len feel good about himself for the first time in a long time.

“ _Yep”_ Was all Len felt the need to offer up in response, choosing instead to fiddle with the silver ring around his finger while he continued to watch the familiar boy across from him.

 

Feeling that any more time spent with the boy was going to cause more problems to the timeline that it was worth, Len placed his hands onto his knees and groaned as he pushed himself up off the bench and back onto his feet.

“ _You uh, you going?”_ Mick asked as he turned to face Len for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

“ _Yeah, I figure this is probably for the best. This conversation is one slip-up off a paradox as it is so I'd honestly rather not risk it.”_ Len said.

“ _Yeah. You all seem to be pretty well trained in this whole 'time travel' crap so uh, yeah, you're probably right.”_ Mick seemed to agree as he watched Len quickly get himself ready to leave.

  
Deciding their wasn't really much else that warranted saying, Len gave the younger Mick one final nod before he quickly begun to hurry himself over towards the door out of the little bay they had sat themselves in. However, before Len could get too far away the sound of the younger Rory shouting after him one again stopped Len dead in his tracks.

 

“ _Hey uh, Len.”_ Mick said.

“ _Yeah? Something the matter?”_ Len replied.

“ _I just... I just wanted to say thanks. That's all.”_ Mick said bashfully, the slightest hint of a deep scarlet blush seeping onto his pale cheeks right before Len's eyes.

“ _Thanks? For what?”_ Len asked.

“ _For he-... for bei-... for everything, I guess.”_ Mick said, sounding as unsure of himself as Len was hearing it. Somehow though, Len knew exactly what the kid was trying to say even if his words were failing him. He'd always been good at understanding exactly what Mick was trying to say even when the other man was at his most inarticulate. Just one of the many perks living with someone for almost twenty years does to a couple.

 

Placing a hand down onto the frame of the door and tossing the kid the first genuine smile he'd pulled their entire encounter, Len shook his head and laughed silently to himself.

 

“ _Don't mention it kid.”_ Len said as he raised his free hand up to eye level and saluted the younger Rory. _“I'll see you around Micky.”_

“ _Yeah, See you around Lenny.”_ Mick said with a smirk as Len finally ducked his head out of the bay and begun to make his way through the narrow halls of the WaveRider and towards everyone else, and his husband of course, had headed off to what seemed like hours ago.

 

Len couldn't wait to tell Mick ( _Well, HIS Mick anyway_ ) all about this. Who knew that old knuckle-head could be such a god damn softie?

 


	6. The Feeling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is supposed to be set a fair bit before the first time we see Len and Mick on 'The Flash'. They're both supposed to be in their mid-twenties here anyway (with Lisa being around eleven or so?) so yeah, they be very young here, at least comparatively. Either way though, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Leonard couldn't hear a single damn word that his partner was saying, but there was something oddly hypnotic about how Mick was carrying himself that evening. Try as he may ( _and oh boy had he been trying_ ), Leonard couldn't quite seem put his finger on what exactly it was no matter how hard he tried.

 

Perhaps it wasn't something that was meant to be understood? Perhaps Mick was just in one of those rare good moods of his, the ones usually brought on when the other man was drunk enough to forget all about that blasted farm, the smell of burning tinder filling his nostrils as the house begun to collapse into itself and the sound of the blood-curdling screams that had escaped from within his former home as the burning orange flame consumed everything he'd know and loved before his very eyes...

 

Or perhaps Len was just a bit too drunk to properly think straight? Either option sounded plausible.

 

Sitting across from Mick and sipping on an ice cold beer as he keenly watched a tornado of neon lights flash over the other males comparatively broad frame, Len couldn't help but smirk as Mick became more and more animated the longer his wildly emotive rant carried on. His enthusiastic aura was oddly infectious to say the very least and Len was now convinced that it wasn't just the steady flow of booze that was giving him a buzz.

 

He'd noticed earlier that evening that Mick seemed to be in a much more agreeable mood than he usually was, but Len had simply chalked that up to the fact they'd pulled off yet another successful heist that very same day. However, almost five hours later and Mick was still grinning from ear to ear like the Cheshire Cat itself as he continued talking about god knows what like there was no tomorrow.

 

Len had considered stopping him and letting him know that he couldn't hear a word he was saying, but there was something about seeing the other man so happy that made Len feel an all too familiar warmth rumbling away in his centre of his chest. Normally Len would have assumed that it was down to a punctured lung or something like that, but even he knew in his heart of hearts that this feeling was something else entirely.

 

“ _Lenny!”_ Mick suddenly boomed over the throbbing baseline, immediately snapping Len's attention off of his internal monologue and back into the waking world.

“ _Huh? What? What's up?”_ Len quickly replied, failing miserably to hide his complete and utter bewilderment while the wide grin on Mick's face seemed to widen at the sight.

“ _Typical Lenny. Always letting yer mind wander.”_ Mick said with an undeniable fondness to his tone that seemed to exacerbate the strange warmth radiating from Len's insides.

“ _I don't let my mind wander Mick.”_ He paused. _“Well, not always anyway.”_

“ _Yeah yeah. You keep telling yerself that big guy and maybe someday it might just come true.”_ Mick teased playfully before he tossed back what Leonard was sure was his seventh shot.

“ _I'm half drunk Mick, cut me some slack already. Now are you going to tell me what you said or not?”_ Len asked as he took another swig from his beer.

“ _I asked you what you're planning on doing with your half of the money?”_ Mick said.

“ _Oh.”_ Len paused again.

“ _Oh?”_ Mick repeated as he slowly narrowed his deep brown eyes.

“ _I uh, I haven't really thought about it.”_ Len lied, flicking his eyes away from Mick's as he glanced around the club at absolutely anything that wasn't Mick.

“ _Bullshit you haven't. You're Leonard Snart. THE Leonard Snart. Planner of plans! Schemer of schemes! Robber of ATM's! Don't tell me you of all people haven't thought about how you were gonna spend your half of a million dollars payday Lenny.”_ Mick said. _“You may be able to pull the wool over everyone else's eyes Lenny, but I know how you think.”_

“ _Okay tough guy, simmer down already.”_ Len huffed with a small smirk as he placed his beer back down onto the table before him and leaned back into his seat. _“If you must know, I was thinking about putting most of it away in a trust fund for Lisa. Give her something to look forward to, y'know? Something that my Dad can't get his filthy fucking hands on anyway.”_

“ _Oh.”_ Mick said with a slight pause. _“That sounds like a good plan to me Lenny. A real good plan.”_

“ _I'm glad you think so.”_ Len said _“What're you thinking about doing with your share then?”_

“ _Something a little less noble would you believe it.”_ Mick said. _“I was thinking about whisking us both off to Vegas so we can piss away half a million dollars in style. That's what I was thinking.”_

“ _Vegas eh? So what happened to laying low then?”_ Len asked.

“ _Who said I wasn't planning on laying low?”_ Mick said.

“ _You did by suggesting you wanted to go to Vegas. C'mon Mick, Don't bullshit a bullshitter. There's nothing in Vegas but a slew of dimwitted suckers lining up to get ripped off by a young pair of hooligans with a penchant for the illegal.”_ Len explained, trying to sound as matter-of-fact about it as he could _._

“ _I wasn't planning it as a 'business' trip Len. It supposed to be so we can go and y'know, actually enjoy ourselves for once.”_ Mick said. _“Like a vacation or something.”_

“ _A vacation?”_ Len asked with a piqued brow.

“ _A vacation.”_ Mick repeated.

 

Inside his chest, Len was sure that the warm feeling continuing to quietly rumble away in there was going to suffocate him if it happened to get any stronger.

 

Everything was slowly but surely beginning to make sense. Was this little scheme the reason Mick had been acting so giddy all night? It wasn't like Mick to be so sentimental, but then again the two of them hadn't been dating for long, so perhaps Len just hadn't seen this side of Mick yet? For a moment Len begun to wonder what other sides of Mick he had yet to be introduced too and whether or not they would be as agreeable as this Mick was proving to be. Somehow he wasn't sure that would be the case, but somehow he also didn't seem to care?

 

Funny that, how love can make people feel.

 

Len was going to try and pretend he didn't just think that.

 

“ _Well, that sounds good to me Micky. Although, if it is your treat like you said then you can bet your ass we'll be flying there first class. Extra leg room, champagne reception, extra pillows. The whole bit.”_ Len said with a toothy grin that seemed to send Mick soaring.

“ _Pfft. Who said we're flying? Two words babe. Road trip.”_ Mick replied while Len desperately tried to ignore the now overpowering glow in his chest. Mick just called him babe. Jesus Christ.

“ _A road trip?”_ Len said with a lopsided smirk. _“Sounds like you've got this all planned Micky.”_

“ _I do indeed Lenny. We're leaving first thing tomorrow. If we leave before noon we should get to Vegas before nightfall.”_ Mick said as he begun to scooch around the booth and closer towards Len.

“ _First thing in the morning eh? Well then, I guess you better come home with me tonight. That way it'll save you a trip in the morning.”_ Len said with a newfound confidence to his tone that even he was unsure of where exactly it came from. Across from him, Mick couldn't help but flash him that smug sneer of his that Len was ashamed to admit he had grown to adore.

“ _Oh yeah? Don't know how well rested I'll be staying at your's Lenny. Never seem to get much sleep when that happens.”_ Mick said in a flirty voice as he slipped his broad arm around Len's shoulders before dragging him in closer to his always extraordinarily warm body.

“ _Well its a good thing I know how to help you relax then, isn't it?”_ Len said as he reached over and began to gently palm Mick crotch through his dark blue jeans. The deep groan that escaped Mick's barely parted lips as Len quickly got to work was so much more intoxicating than any amount of alcohol could ever hope to be and Len quite frankly was relishing in it. _“Don't worry Micky, I'll make sure you get a fine sleep.”_

“ _Oh I bet you will.”_ Mick seemed to purr out between shaky breaths as he leaned forward and pulled Len into a deep, passionate kiss that neither men seemed liked they ever wanted to break away from. _“C'mon babe, lets get out of here.”_

 

* * *

 

Early the very next morning, Len sat in the passenger seat of Mick's van with the window down and a strong, refreshing breeze washing over his face all while his hand held tightly onto Mick's, who was humming away to whatever song it was playing on the radio whilst he drove them down the long, empty road's leading out of Central City and onto the free-way. The sun hadn't quite risen up over the distant mountains on the horizon yet, but if that meant that Len could enjoy the glorious view just outside his window for a little while longer without having to resort to using his sunglasses then he wasn't about to complain.

 

Turning to Mick and allowing himself to soaking up the sight of him, Len smiled to himself and gave Mick's hand a reassuring squeeze, almost as if to prove to himself that the other man was actually there and that they were actually doing what Len thought they were. Seeing Mick turn to him and flash him that same grin that had convinced him to come along on this trip in the first place filled Len up with the same relaxing feeling of all encompassing serenity as he had felt the night before.

 

Taking one last look at Mick before turning away and staring back out the window once again, Len gripped on to Mick's hand just a little tighter whilst he begun to hum along in time with Mick to the song playing on the radio.

 

That warm, glowing feeling that had been haunting Len since he and Mick had become 'official' had made itself quite at home in the centre of his chest once again. Watching as the sights outside seemed to blur on by, Len couldn't help but smile away to himself dumbly, secretly hoping that the feeling would never go away.

 


	7. Mother Knows Best.

The first time Axel had called him by that horrendous little nick-name, Mick - although obviously taken back by it - had just assumed it was nothing more than a Freudian slip and decided there and than that he wasn't going to dwell on it, for his own sake more than Axel's.

 

The second time it had happened, Mick was almost sure he'd saw Axel barely just manage to avoid flashing Mick that cocky little grin of his while he'd said it, although the Trickster had quickly turned himself away from Mick before the burly pyromaniac got a chance to really get a good look at him. Sneaky little bastard.

 

The third time it happened it was through text. Mick stared at the message for what seemed like a confusingly endless eternity, desperately trying to decipher what exactly it could mean to absolutely no avail. Len had questioned Mick on why he had seemed so damn fixated with his phone that day but Mick never dared to tell him what exactly was wrong. The ribbing Len would have been sure to have given him was nowhere near worth the satisfaction of having Axel's ridiculous mind-games all figured out. Well, at least that's what Mick kept telling himself anyway.

 

The fourth time it happened was when Mick and the rest of the Rogues were busy casing a diamond exchange over in Keystone. Axel had called him it again over the Rogues comm-line after Mick had finished relaying Len's orders to the rest of the team. Before Mick had the chance to demand an explanation from him Axel quickly removed himself from the line, leaving Mick feeling like much more of a fool than he had done in quite some time. While he was well aware of how paranoid it sounded, Mick would gladly swear on his own life that he heard both Shawna and Mark erupt into a violent storm of wicked laughter like a squad of decrepit witches before their lines were also conveniently put on mute as well.

 

Enough was enough.

 

As far as Mick was concerned, there wasn't going to be a fifth time.

 

* * *

 

 

Having set his alarm to go off at 6:00am on the dot, Mick had gotten up out of bed and made himself halfway presentable before he carefully begun to quietly tread through the still silent hallways of the lair and towards the living room. Outside, the warm orange glow of the early morning light shining through the wide windows starkly contrasted the frigid cold desperately clinging on to the barren walls of the lair, but Mick's steely resolve remained entirely undeterred. He was going to get an explanation out of Axel and he was going to get it now.

 

Heading into the living room, Mick grumbled something or other under his breath as he turned Len's armchair around so it was now facing the only door in and out of the lair. If he was going to be waiting long for the twerp to make an appearance then he might as well be comfortable doing it. Well, that and the way the chair seemed to hide itself away in the insidious darkness of the living room where the morning light hadn't quite reached yet gave the entire thing a wonderfully dramatic flare that Mick just couldn't resist taking advantage of.

 

Plopping himself down into the chair and folding his large arms across his wide chest, Mick stared ahead of himself and directly at the door with a wildfire burning behind his impossibly dark gaze. All he had to do now was wait, which was easier said than done. Thankfully though he wasn't waiting long as only a few short minutes later Axel finally strolled on into the living area, blissfully unaware of the confrontation awaiting him just inside.

 

“ _Why the hell do you keep calling me 'Mom'?”_ Mick suddenly asked from within the darkness, the lightest flush of pink already finding its way onto his cheeks as he prepared himself for what he was sure was going to be one emotionally draining war of the words.

 

Already about halfway out the door when Mick managed to pluck up the courage to finally question him, Axel paused momentarily before he finally turned back around to face Mick, the corners of his mouth already pricking upwards ever so slightly as he did so.

“ _Uh, excuse me?”_ Axel tried to ask innocently, even if the suggestion of a smirk on his face betrayed the confusion he was desperately trying oh so hard to convey.

“ _I know you heard me right so you better cut the shit real quick kid. Why the fuck do you keep calling me 'Mom'”_ Mick repeated as fiercely as possible, hoping that a little intimidation would get him the answers he desperately sought.

“ _I hope you know this means I'm definitely gonna miss my bus, but whatever. I'll stay and chat if it'll make you happy”_ Axel huffed, gently closing the door over behind him as he paced forward and towards Mick, still sitting in Len's chair whilst surrounded by darkness

 

For a moment, an uncomfortably tense silence pulsed through the living area while Mick continued to do nothing but give the wickedly smug looking Axel what he thought was his most downright menacing glare. Axel however, didn't flinch. He should've known better than to assume it would work on a Trickster.

 

“ _So, you gonna explain why the fuck you've taken to calling me 'Mom' or are you just gonna keep starting at me like a dip shit?”_ Mick eventually asked, his tone dry enough to wipe all traces of smugness from Axel's face.

“ _I dunno how much there to explain really. You're just... you're clearly the mother of Lenny's little gaggle of misfits so I sometimes like call you Mom.”_ Axel said while shrugging as if to highlight how obvious his explanation should have been to the other man. _“Simple.”_

 

Still sitting in Len's chair, Mick continued to stare ahead at a now wildly uncomfortable looking Axel with a strangely blank look on his face. Axel couldn't tell if it was down to the rather obvious confusion or agitation Mick was clearly feeling, but all he did know was that he didn't like it.

 

“ _What?”_ Mick said not too long afterwards, his voice low and eyes slowly narrowing as he refused to break eye-contact with the now crumbling rogue stood before him.

“ _Its nothing really, its just that you kind of totally ARE the mom, y'know? You drive us places, you lend us money, you make sure we all remember to eat, you send us texts checking up on us, you buy us clothes...”_

“ _I STEAL YOU CLOTHES! STEAL! AND EVEN THEN THAT WAS ONLY BECAUSE YOU'RE LAST PAIR OF PANTS WERE RIPPED RIGHT UP THE CROTCH!”_ Mick suddenly exploded, earning himself a shaky chuckle from the still unsure looking Trickster.

“ _Steal. Give. Whatever. Same shit really. There's no other way to look at it Mickey. You may be an overly aggressive tool with one hell of a fire fetish, but as well as that you just so happen to be... uh...”_ Axel scrunched up his face and swished his hands around in the air as if contemplating a better way to put it, even if they both knew he wasn't going to find on. _“Motherly. That's all.”_

 

Mick knew he was overreacting but at that exact moment in time the very walls around him seemed as though they were slowly beginning to melt down into a disturbing nothingness as the young Tricksters words begun to truly resonated with him.

 

Oh dear god.

 

“ _Uh Mick? You okay big fella? You suddenly ain't looking so good.”_ Axel said while taking a cautious step back away from the suddenly furious looking Mick now pushing himself out of the chair and up onto his feet.

“ _Listen here you obnoxious little shit! I ain't your fu- your fucki- oh god.”_ Mick suddenly boomed before drifting off into a wild slur as he felt the room take off spinning around him. Stumbling around on the spot with his arms waving around wildly looking for something to grab on to, Mick cursed aloud one final time before he suddenly collapsed down onto the ground with a thunderous thud.

 

“ _Yikes. Looks like Mommy dearest took a pretty nasty spill just now. Thank god for that thick skull, right Mickey?”_ Axel said plainly as he stared at the now clearly unconscious Mick, sprawled out across the floor like a drunkard after one too many. _“No need to get up, I'll see myself out. Have a good one Momsey!”_

 

Not even bothering to check if the pyromaniac was even still breathing, Axel snickered away to himself as he quickly zipped out of the front door and into the relatively abandoned streets of the early morning Central City. Mick hadn't gotten the chance to tear him to shread AND at this rate he could probably still catch his bus if he hurried. It was a win-win all around if Axel said so himself!

 

Still laying face down on the floor of the living room when Lisa found him some twenty minutes later, Mick could be heard mumbling something about or other about mothers while a panicked Lisa stumbled over towards him and attempted to heave his comparatively giant frame back up off the floor into the chair.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that night once everyone in their not-so-secret later had retreated to their own respective rooms for the evening, Mick lay flat on his back staring blankly at the roof with a look of deep concern written all over his face.

 

As short as his and Axel's strange little exchange that morning had been, Mick just couldn't seem to get it out of his head. He wasn't the Rogues 'Mom', was he? He certainly hadn't thought so before now, but something about how casual Axel had been about the whole thing had gotten under Mick's skin. Maybe the kid was on to something?

 

On the other hand, maybe Axel was just a manipulative little shit who enjoyed getting under peoples skin? That was surely a lot more likely than Mick being considered motherly? Right?

 

“ _Something you want to talk about big guy?”_ Len suddenly asked from Mick's side, his tired and hoarse voice slicing through the darkness and shaking Mick out of his frankly futile train of thought.

“ _Huh? Nah, nothing at all Lenny. Go back to sleep babe. M'sorry if I woke you.”_ Mick whispered as he leaned over across the bed and lightly kissed Len's forehead.

“ _You say that like trying to fall asleep while listening to you muttering away to yourself is supposed to be easy.”_ Len said softly. _“That and you're doing that thing with the lighter again. It's pretty hard to sleep with the impending fear of being immolated rumbling away in the back of your mind, you know?”_

 

At first going to refute Len's ridiculous claims, Mick instead turned to look at his hand and found that yes, he was going that thing with the lighter again. Namely flicking it off and on again in what he admittedly found to be a strangely relaxing rhythm.

 

“ _Ah Shit. Sorry Lenny...”_ Mick whispered as he delicately placed the lighter down inside one of the drawers in the dresser next to their bed. Last time he'd been this worked up he'd accidentally set fire to their sheets. Len forgave him, eventually, but Mick didn't want to risk a repeat of last time. That week he'd learned the hard way that the couch downstairs wasn't anywhere near as comfortable as their bed was.

“ _Don't worry about it, but you do need to tell me what's wrong though.”_ Len said through another tired yawn. _“Did you have another dream about the farm?”_

“ _No no. Nothing like that. Its just...”_ Mick hesitated. _“Its just that Axel seems to think that I'm the 'Mom' of the Rogues.”_

“ _Okay...”_ Len said. “ _And?”_

“ _What the hell do you mean 'and?! That's it Len! He thinks I'm the fuckin' Mother of the team for Christ sake!”_ Mick baulked incredulously while next to him, Len continued to stare at his husband indifferently.

“ _Now keeping in mind that this could just be because I'm so exhausted I can barely see straight, but I'm failing to see what the issue here is Mick.”_ Len said before yawning loudly. _“Is there something wrong with being the mom of the team? I'm not seeing why this is keeping you up.”_

“ _Okay. Wow. Some help you are Len. Thanks for that.”_ Mick said with more than just a hint of disappointed venom lacing his tone. If Len had picked up on that though he certainly didn't let it show.

“ _Why don't you shut the hell up complaining and think about it for a second, will you? While Axel's relationship with his dad may be... rocky, to say the least, Axel gets on great with his mom. Same with me and Lisa. So did you you come to think of it.”_ Len explained. _“That's why I'm not seeing the problem with it Mick. Sure its a little... odd coming from Axel, but considering how close he is with Zoe I don't think his thinking of you are a mother figure is all that insulting. I'd were you I'd take it as a compliment.”_

 

Mick paused for a moment and stared over at Len with his lips pursed and eyes narrowed while Len continued to look mostly disinterested. Not even Mick's hardiest stares could send a chill up Len's spine nowadays. Bastard.

 

“ _Let me ask you a very fair question, when you were talking just there, did even a single word of it seem to you to be in the least bit genuine? I honestly want to know.”_ Mick eventually growled at his partner gruffly. Len meanwhile could only muster up what proved itself to be yet another exhausted sigh.

“ _Right. So you're obviously in one of your legendarily foul moods and after twenty three years together I know that I'm best to just leave you to wallow in the immeasurable depths of your own self-pity until you realise how fucking stupid you're behaving.”_ Len said with a defeated sounding yawn as he rolled over in their bed and away from Mick. _“If you're feeling a little less dramatic by the time morning rolls around, how about you let me know and we could go out for breakfast or something? Okay?”_

“ _Okay.”_ Mick huffed, only just managing to suppress the truly overwhelming urge to sass Len back. Len may have been absolutely exhausted but Mick knew his husband well enough to know that Len would rather die than let him get the last word in, regardless of how tired he may have been. Bastard. _“G'night Len.”_

“ _Good night Mick. Try and get some sleep.”_

 

Only a few short moments had passed before Mick found himself alone in the darkness once again, the soft and silent breaths of his now once again fast asleep lover laying next in bed besides him now the only company he had in this, his time of need.

 

He had his thoughts too obviously, but those weren't exactly co-operating with him at that moment in time. At least not in the way he wanted them too anyway.

 

If Mick were being completely honest with himself though, was being considered the Mom of the team really all that bad? Now that he had some time to think about it, Mick wasn't as sure about it as he had been earlier.

 

He'd never admit it, but Len was obviously right... again. He'd had a pretty good relationship with his mother before... well, before everything had went down that night. Come to think of it, a lot of the Rogues were still in touch with their mothers, including Axel who phoned Zoe what seemed like once every night at least. Maybe what the kid was saying really was more of a term of endearment than anything else?

 

Also, considering the colourful nicknames Axel had bestowed upon everyone else around the hide-out at this point, being called Mom by the little twerp on the rare occasion should surely be looked at as a small blessing.

 

Goddamn Snart. Why did he have to be right all the goddamn time? Smug bastard. Handsome too, but mostly smug.

 

Rolling himself over across the bed so he could snuggle up with the still snoozing Len laying peacefully beside him, Mick sighed to himself quietly as exhaustion finally begun to get the better of him. Truthfully he still wasn't 100% on what to make of everything, but maybe things would be clearer in the morning. Mick certainly hoped they would be anyway.

 

* * *

 

“ _So, you feeling any better today Micky?”_ Axel asked the very next morning as he wandered into the kitchen to find Mick sitting the table, fully dressed and eagerly waiting the still not quite ready Len to finally join him.

“ _Much.”_ Mick said with a slight nod. _“I did some thinking and figured there are much worse names you could be calling me, so maybe Mom ain't so bad after all.”_

“ _Huh, that's very level-headed of you. I mean if you're choosing to take it as a compliment then I clearly must've said it wrong, but whatever helps you sleep at night.”_ Axel teased as he reached into the fridge and snatched up the last ice cold can of soda.

“ _Quit while your ahead kid”_ Mick replied.

“ _Hmph. I'm not promising anything, but I'll certainly consider it.”_ Axel said as he cracked open the can and begun to greedily slug down its contents. Mick couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight.

 

While that was happening, a much more awake looking Len wandered into the kitchen and right on up to Mick, who welcomed his husband into the room with a small wave and a warm smile.

 

“ _Hey. You look nice.”_ Mick remarked with a faint smirk while failing to stop himself looking Len up and down as he did so.

“ _You too.”_ Len said with a nod as he turned away from Mick and glanced over towards Axel. _“How're you feeling kid. Sleep well?”_

“ _Alright I guess. Not the best sleep I've had, but also not the worst. I did however somehow manage to sleep in though so I gotta run. I'll catch you asshat's later. Adiós!”_ Axel said as he tossed the still half-full soda can into the empty sink across the room before he jogged out of the kitchen.

“ _Sure thing.”_ Len called after Axel. _“Have a good one kid. Try and stay out of trouble!”_

 

Before the pair left standing at the kitchen table even had a chance to get a word in now that they were finally alone with one another, Axel suddenly lurched back into the kitchen and right back over towards the other two who greeted his reappearance with matching grimaces.

 

“ _So listen, what're the chances of me being able to borrow some cash off one of you two reasonable fellows?”_ Axel seemed to sing at them as he fluttered his eyelashes playfully.

“ _And why the hell would you need to do that?”_ Mick asked.

“ _I left my wallet with... a friend? Yeah, lets call him a friend, and I won't be seeing him until at least tomorrow so this is just to do me until then.”_ Axel explained. _“C'mon! Don't be shitty!”_

“ _Uh-huh...”_ Mick replied, not sounding entirely convinced.

“ _Okay so he's not a friend as such, more like... a casual fling, sorta? I mean we're fuc-”_ Axel started to say before Mick held his hand up right before Axel's face.

“ _Stop. I don't wanna know and I don't really care.”_

“ _Sure you don't. Listen, its either this or I rob a 7/11 and considering Old Man Winter next to you told us to lay low for a while doesn't sound like too grand an idea now does it?”_ Axel persisted. _“So, can I borrow some cash of you or not?”_

 

Before Mick had the chance to tell the kid where to go, Len suddenly produced a $50 note, seemingly out of thin air, and handed over the now happily grinning Axel.

“ _I'd like at least some change back, if you think you can handle that of course.”_ Len told Axel, ignoring the completely flabbergasted looking Mick and his sounds of protest.   
_“I won't let you down chief. Well, I'll try not to anyway.”_ Axel said.

“ _Somehow I doubt that.”_ Len replied.

“ _Pfft, whatever. Thanks for the cash daddy._ ” Axel purred with a disgustingly seedy little wink as he zipped off up and out of the kitchen.

 

Still standing side by side in the now deadly silent kitchen, Mick slowly turned around to look at the oddly quiet Len, who upon closer inspection looked as though he'd just been hit by a train. To say he looked deflated would be an understatement, but knowing Len like he did Mick knew that this was Len's way of dealing with being completely utterly blind-sided, which Axel almost certainly had done with that little closing number.

 

Opening and the closing his mouth a fair few times as if he couldn't quite figure out what exactly to say or do after that, Len eventually turned to Mick with a rather desperate and utterly lost expression on his face.

 

“ _Did he... did he just call me 'Daddy'?”_

 

And that did it. While Len stood at his side in a stunned silence, Mick erupted into a howl of infectiously loud laughter that filled the quiet aura resonating throughout their lair almost instantly. Burning hot tears streamed down his face and his sides ached from laughing so hard, but goddammit was the bewildered look on Len's face worth every god damn second of the pain.

 

Len was right. Turns out being called 'Mom' wasn't so bad after all.

 


End file.
